


So Innocent

by complexphoenix



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Creepy, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fic Exchange, First Time, Older Man/Younger Woman, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 09:11:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2263998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/complexphoenix/pseuds/complexphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Littlefinger makes Sansa's first time a kinky one. He visits her as she is dressing for a feast, and gives her a butt plug which she is to wear until the feast is over. Afterwards, he takes her anally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Innocent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jkl789](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jkl789/gifts).



Sansa is in her smallclothes when he comes in.

She yelps and covers her nipples with her hands. “Father!” she blushes. “I did not expect you.”

“You have nothing to hide from me, daughter,” he says, smiling and leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Which of these gowns were you thinking of wearing to the feast?”

“I was leaning toward the green linen. The purple silk might be too rich, but the brown wool is too plain.”

“What about this one? White silk. You would look beautiful in it. Beautiful and... so innocent.” His eyes twinkle as he speaks.

She notices his tone, and pauses, but then she nods. “As you say, my lord.” 

“And wear stockings underneath. The black velvet, to keep you warm.”

“Of course, my lord.”

He smiles radiantly back at her. He always loves it when she is obedient. He helps her pull the dress over her head, but holds the skirt up in the back so that it does not fall to cover her.

“My lord?”

“Just one little thing.” He pulls a little plug out of his pocket, two inches long and three-quarters wide, slicked with oil and flared at the base, and carved of weirwood. “I had this made just for you. It would please me if you would wear it to the feast.” He pulls down her smallclothes, bends her over his knee, and pushes it into her tight, perfect pink arse.

She squeals. “Father! What are you doing?”

“Relax, my love. It's only a little thing. You only need to keep it in until the feast is over. Do you understand?”

“I...” she hesitates. “Yes, Father.”

“Very good.” He pulls her smallclothes back into place, allows her to stand up and straightens her skirt. “Now you are all dressed. Have your maid brush your hair until it shines, and come down to the feast with it hanging long and loose. You will be the very image of the Maiden made flesh... the most delightful vision of beauty and innocence that any of them have ever seen.”

“As you say, my lord.” She blushes so prettily. He kisses her cheek and takes his leave.

She is faultlessly courteous to all the guests at the feast, and every lad in the room has his eye on her as she sits next to him, daintily supping on the roast spiced duck as he makes conversation with friend and foe alike, moving his pieces ever so subtly and arranging his advantage. The cooks have outdone themselves this time; Petyr made certain of that. He wants this night to be as a dream, perfect pleasure from end to end. Sansa's discomfort, ever so slight, gives him just the right measure of devious joy. She does not know what he has in store for her, but he knows, and the slow build makes it all the more wickedly exciting.

When at last their bellies are all contentedly full of duck and squash and bread and pease and autumn fruit pie and the finest Arbor vintage of the five-year summer, he takes her on his arm and escorts her back up to her bedchamber, where a roaring fire awaits to keep away the cold. Warmth is always best where nakedness is wanted.

“May I take it out now?” she asks, perfectly courteous with no hint of suspicion.

“Almost. But first, slip out of that gown. And your smallclothes. But leave the stockings. We wouldn't want you do be _entirely_ indecent,” he says, his voice all silk and gentle reassurance.

She does as bid, so innocent, too obedient to refuse. And then, there she stands before him, so young and smooth, her cheeks blushing sweetly and her blue eyes nervous but trusting too, her pert small breasts exposed to his gaze with only a little tuft of soft auburn fuzz to hide her maiden female parts.

Someday, yes. But not tonight.

“Turn around,” he says, “and bend over the side of the bed. First your maid must cleanse you.”

The maid has already been instructed on what to do. Petyr pulls the plug out, and then watches hungrily as her bowel is flushed clean and pure for him, and then she is patted dry, biting her lip and blushing nervously all the while. The stockings covering her legs make her exposed private parts all the more arousing. The plug has loosened her, and the hole looks as big as her cunt now, but he knows that more will be required. He'll be fondling that pretty pink ring for a while yet. He dismisses the maid when her task is complete.

“Do you know, sweet daughter,” he says, the last word inflaming his lust, “how to please a man?”

She blushes. “With my... my female parts... but...”

“There are other ways as well, sweetling. Ways to please a man while keeping your maidenhead where it is. Let me show you.” He dips the plug in a fresh coat of oil and slides it back in, and begins to move it from side to side, pushing the rim further into the smooth white expanse that surrounds it.

She squirms. “Father,” she whimpers, “it hurts.”

“Not for long. Relax, my love. Relax and let it widen.”

She bites her lip and takes a deep breath. Even spread before him like this she is so innocent, so much still a child, and that excites him all the more. His breeches are feeling very uncomfortable, but he knows that a bit of self-control will make the denouement all the sweeter. She sighs as he works the plug inside her.

“My lord,” she says, nervously uncertain, “this... my... my... I don't know...”

“I know. You don't need to. Has it stopped hurting now?”

“Ah... yes.”

“Perfect.” She's wide enough now, she's ready for him. He pulls off his tunic and unlaces his breeches, and grabs her by the cheeks and thrusts his not-so-Little Finger inside her maiden arse.

She lets out a squeal, and squirms and whimpers as he fits them together. The squirming makes it better. She is tight and wet and hot and he's so hard he has to catch himself to ensure he doesn't come too soon. As he begins to pump inside her, her smooth white back arches and turns shiny with sweat, rising up and down as she pants for breath. He murmurs gently to her and squeezes her cheeks to reassure her.

He pulls out and turns her onto her back, lifting her legs and propping them up with his arms before going back inside. Her face is flushed and blotchy, and he kisses her fiercely, with his tongue in her mouth. She is so beautiful, even more beautiful than Catelyn was, and this time she is his, _his,_ and nothing will stop him from having her. As her sweet firm teats press against his chest, his lust overtakes him, and he sets a punishing rhythm, burying himself to the hilt and using her ruthlessly. 

She whimpers and bites her lip and pants for breath, but cannot endure it long. _“Ahhhh,”_ she wails, “Please, Petyr, that hurts, it's too much, please...”

The sound of her pleading is sweet, but he doesn't want to make her hate him. “Very well,” he says silkily, stopping and pulling out, “Let's have you set the pace. Get on top of me, and sit on it.” He lies on his back.

She nervously climbs over him and sits down with her back to him, and he slicks his cock with some more oil and guides her back onto it. “Now,” he says, his voice husky with desire, “Move.”

She bites her lip, nods, and begins to slide up and down. The sight of the two smooth white globes of her arse spread apart with his cock between them, sliding obscenely in and out of her, with the red skin of her hole stretched tight around his cock, almost sends him over the edge, but he stops himself again. He sits up behind her, reaches around, and pinches her most sensitive part. He's pleased, and deviously amused, to find her wet.

“My lord!” she yelps.

“Keep going. Don't stop now, not when it's just now getting _really_ good.”

She resumes moving on him as he squeezes and twists her nub, and she whimpers, and he follows her cues to find the right pressure and pace. Soon she's moaning, and then he curls his fingers roughly underneath to press on her entrance, not enough to go in but enough to make her _feel_ it, and she lets out a pretty girlish scream and her walls tighten on his cock with a _strength_ that no maid ought to have. 

_“Sansa!”_

He grips her roughly by the waist and shoves her down on his cock, burying himself to the hilt in that sweet heat as he spills his seed, the world disappearing in a haze of release. “Gods. Sansa, Sansa, well done, very good, good girl.”

“My lord,” she asks, her voice stiffening now that she's returning to normal, “why? Shouldn't it... shouldn't it be...”

“A lesson, sweetling,” he says, panting for breath, covered in sweat and deliriously happy. “A valuable lesson in how to handle men.” It's a lie, of course. He did it entirely for the pleasure of his own cock, but she doesn't need to know that.

She nods stiffly. “Give your father a kiss, now,” he says, and then he tucks her into bed. “Sleep well, sweetling.”

He returns to his own bedchamber deliriously smug. _Are you down in some cold hell, Lord Hoster? I do so hope that you saw what I just did. I hope it made you weep. You're dead, your House has fallen to ruin, and I just fucked your maiden granddaughter, soon to be your only living descendant, in the ass and she liked it. Take that, my lord. Take it hard and good._

He drifts off into a warm and easy sleep, with strands of fresh plots dancing in his head, together with the sweet naked body of sweet Sansa Stark, soon to be his all over again, and again, and _again_ , in all manner of ways that she will _never_ see coming but will enjoy nonetheless. He'll make _sure_ of it.


End file.
